Gone but not Forgotten
by Joncal
Summary: Gohan dies in the battle against Cell, and can't be brought back to life. Will Goku and Chichi's lives ever be the same again? *DISCONTINUED* If anybody wants to finish it, go for it.
1. Chapter 1

Gohan stood inches away from Cell. "Please...please, let's just end this," the eleven year-old Super Saiyan begged. The android frowned. "Why? We were having so much fun."

"Because..." His voice trailed off.

"Because why?" Cell questioned.

"Because...because I don't want to fight anymore! I hate fighting. I've proven that I'm stronger than you. Please, we have to stop this before anyone else gets hurt," Gohan answered.

Cell scoffed and shook his head. "Pathetic." He extended his arm outwards and aimed at Gohan with his index finger.

There was a flash of light that took the half-Saiyan by surprise. The purplish energy beam struck the boy's eye, partially blinding him.

At first, Gohan wasn't quite sure what had happened. And then the pain overtook him. It was fierce and fiery, and was enough to drop the boy to his knees. He could feel warm, fresh blood trickling down his face. He opened his mouth in a long, horrible agonizing scream.

Cell found this amusing and began to laugh.

Vegeta felt chills rush down his spine. He recognized the attack, and he remembered it all too well. It was none other that Freeza's finishing move.

Goku, who had been cheering his son on just moments ago, went completely silent. What had just happened?

Piccolo wore an expression of shock and utter horror. The only person he had ever cared about now lay on the ground, sobbing and writhing in pain. "Gohan?"

Gohan, blood and tears streaming down his cheeks, rose to his feet, breathing shakily.

A second energy beam tore through his chest. The power of the attack sent Gohan flying backwards. His body hit the ground hardly.

Everything grew quiet.

"Why...why isn't he getting up?" Goku asked, not taking his eyes off of his son's body.

Piccolo swallowed hard, and answered: "I think he's dead, Goku."

"No he can't be. He...he can't be..." Goku found he couldn't bear to say the last word. He quickly rushed over to the scene. Piccolo followed.

Goku dropped to his knees and scraped Gohan up in his arms, cradling the boy.

"Daddy?"

Gohan coughed hard. "Gohan, just hang on, son. It'll be okay," Goku assured, shushing the boy.

Piccolo took a seat beside his long-time arch enemy. "Goku...he's dying."

"No! He's not dying!" Goku felt tears well up in his eyes.

"Daddy...don't cry," Gohan said.

"You'll be okay," Goku insisted.

Gohan looked over at Piccolo, and smiled. "I'll miss you Mr. Piccolo."

He looked back at his father. "I'll miss you too, daddy."

"Don't talk like that!" Goku shouted.

"I love you guys," Gohan said quietly. He went silent.

"Gohan?"

Goku shook the boy's limp body. "Gohan! Gohan, wake up!"

He got no response. "Wake up! Gohan, please wake up!"

Still, Goku got no response. He began bawling, holding his son's body close to his own, rocking back and forth.

He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.

But he was.


	2. Chapter 2

_Goku is running. _

_Someone is chasing him. Gaining on him. _

_He hears Piccolo's voice, faint, but full of hatred and coldness: "Your fault . . ."_

_Suddenly, he comes to a stop at a gravestone. Even in the heavy darkness, he can still read the name carved into it:_ SON GOHAN.

_"No," he hears himself say, his eyes wide, his lower lip trembling. Suddenly a rotted fist bursts through the earth. Goku gasps. _

_It had been so unexpected, but at the same time it hadn't. Goku watches in horror as a decaying corpse pulls itself out of the ground. He realizes that it is none other than his son._

_Staggering towards him, the rotting thing that used to be Gohan says: "Aren't you glad to see me dad?" Gohan tries to smile. He has no upper lip; his teeth poke out in a gruesome sneer. _

_Goku can produce no words._

_"Oh that's right. You're glad I'm gone. You sent me to my death."_

_"No that's not true," Goku manages. "I loved you. I . . . didn't know, Gohan."  
_

_Gohan scoffs. "Yeah, right."_

_Suddenly, skeletal hands burst up through the ground, and latch onto Goku's ankles. He shrieks. The stench of death and decay begins to swirl around him. He is slowly pulled underground._

_Gohan, with Piccolo and Krillin standing behind him, watches this terrifying ordeal happen, and then, in his ancient, evil voice, he says:_

_"Bye, dad."_

* * *

"NO!"

Goku wakes up, bathed in a cold sweat; his body tangled in the bed sheets.

"Goku, what's wrong?" Chichi asks, her voice full of concern.

Goku, breathing rapidly, glances at her for a moment, wipes his forehead, and replies: "Just . . . a bad dream. That's all."

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

He remembers everything: Gohan's untimely death, his transformation into an ascended Super Saiyan, the destruction of Cell, and, of course, the funeral of his only son.

Shen-Long had been unable to revive the fallen warrior. His soul had been trapped on earth, unable to leave to the other world.

"Why?" Goku had asked, close to the point of blubbering.

The dragon had then informed him that he was trapped because he had died a slow, agonizing death, and that his spirit was literally in shock.

"There has to be something you can do!" Krillin reasoned. The dragon said there was nothing he could do.

The funeral had been held six weeks later. Bulma had paid for the coffin. Goku, Yamcha, Tien, Krillin, Vegeta, Bulma and her family, Ox King, and one of Gohan's school teachers had attended. Chichi had fallen ill shortly after hearing the devestating news.

Now, here was Goku, almost a month later, a shell of his former self. Cowardly. Bitter.

He gazes out the window. The moon is fat and full, a sickly yellow.

"A bad dream," he murmurs. Tears begin to fall down his cheeks. Goku makes no effort to wipe them away.

He lays his head down on the pillow, and covers up.

_A bad dream, _his mind repeats_. That's all. Just a bad dream._

He slowly falls to sleep, the horrifying dream replaying in his mind over and over.


	3. Chapter 3

Gokuawoke the next morning, his head throbbing with a dull pain. He hardly got any sleep at all; he was plagued with horrifying nightmares. It was impossible for him to sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes he saw his son, lying on the ground, choking on his own blood, one of his eyes missing, a hole in his chest.

He heard the faint, distant hum of the vacuum cleaner as his wife (_Chichi_) cleaned their house, although the entire house was spotless.

The only room that wasn't clean, hadn't been clean, was (_Gohan's_) his son's. Neither of them went in there anymore. Cleaning house, Goku assumed, was Chichi's way of ignoring the entire situation. Ignoring the death of their only son. Ignoring him, ignoring his pain.

It was like he had some kind of contagious disease. That's exactly what it was. She avoided him, as well as everybody else. His so-called 'friends' had stopped visiting him. They had all abandoned him. Chichi rarely slept in the same bed with him anymore.

The other day she had told him that she was pregnant. He didn't reply. He only stared at the ceiling. She left the room, sobbing.

Nothing much mattered to him anymore. Nobody could truly understand his sadness, except maybe Piccolo, who hadn't been seen since Gohan's death. He had been residing in the Yunzabit Highlands, the biggest freezer known to man.

When Chichi finished cleaning the house, she returned to the room whom she shared with the man who was once her husband. She stood in the doorway, her eyes focused on Goku. His face was worn, haggard, old. There were circles under his glassy eyes.

"Honey?"

He sighed. "What? What do you want?"

"I am going over to Bulma's . F-For a party."

"A party?"

"Yes. Everybody will be there. And I would like it if you'd go with me." She paused, waiting for Goku's response.

Goku uttered a dry, raspy laugh. "Are you kidding me?"

She shook her head.

Goku groaned. "I really don't feel like it. I would like to get some rest."

"All you do is lay in that bed!" Chichi's voice seemed to shake the very room. She was trying to sound angry, but in reality, she was on the verge of tears. "Please, Goku. Just . . . just do it for me, okay? Just this one time. And I'm sure everybody will be happy to see you."

"No they won't," Goku said coldly.

"Please, Goku."

"Fine, I'll go." He threw the covers off of his body, and rose to his feet. He grumbled, walking off to the bathroom.

* * *

Goku stared in the mirror, ashamed of what he had let himself become. Afraid. Hateful. Unforgiving.

He splashed his face with cold water from the sink. _Maybe I should take a shower. _

Goku had only brushed his teeth. He dried his face with a nearby towel, and looked at himself in the mirror once more. But it wasn't his face he saw. That wasn't him in the mirror.

Instead, it was the rotting, ancient thing that was supposed to his son. "Soon," the apparition croaked, trying to smile. "Very soon." Then it began to laugh in its horrible rotten voice.

Goku stumbled back, terrified. He let out a thin scream, and began pounding the mirror with his fist, sending shards a broken glass flying in all directions. He continued this until his hand started to bleed.

Chichi ran down the hallway and found Goku lying on the floor, crying.

She tried to help him. "It . . . I saw it in the mirror!" he blubbered.

"Let me see your hand." She inspected her husband's hand.

Goku pulled his hand away. "No!" he shouted. "It's fine." It took a few minutes to calm down. When he finally did, Chichi suggested that they just stay home.

"No. I'm fine. Just thought I saw something."

"I worry about you. I think you should stay home and get some rest."

"I can't," he said flatly. "I just can't anymore." Then, he added: "I'll be fine, okay? I'll be fine."

Against her better judgement, Chichi sighed and said, "Okay."

_Very soon, _the corpse repeated in Goku's mind.

_Very soon . . ._


End file.
